Bread

Teaching the children to mean what they're told

With their mouth burning to exit, too wise to be old

So in fear into things they can't see but believe

And we don't even give them the chance to agree

No questions asked error team fell away

A population of people who deal in cliché

And there's no punctuation to grant you relief

You know all that you get is a chance to agree

Half undone

Either that or

I'm the first to fall down last to need a line

Symptomatic of the blessings and the good sky

Gorging on what those have said I have said

And now brushed from the table just like crumbs of bread

And now

Have I fell?

Is it easy

Or perhaps you're learning how to duck to the south

Bread in the head of it

But I was a fool to stop

Over the realm by

Thoughts that keep you keeping me up